The Unfortunate Rake / St. James's Hospital / Young Sailor/Trooper Cut Down in His Prime

This song is one in a family of many related songs. In 1960,
Kenneth S. Goldstein published an album on the prestigious Folkways label
with 20 variants,
The Unfortunate Rake: A Study in the Evolution of a Ballad.
His
liner notes,
available as a PDF scan at Smithsonian Global Sound,
are an essential reading.
The first four recordings on this album are British:

A.L. Lloyd sang the Unfortunate Rake, accompanied
by Alf Edwards on concertina, on his 1956 album
English Street Songs,
which was also included here. Goldstein noted:

This ballad of the ‘disordered’ soldier started its life as a
street ballad in the 18th century. It proved to be as tough as its
subject and has flourished right into our own time, changing its form hut never
its substance. It has formed the base of the ballad of
The Young Girl Cut Down in Her Prime, of
The Streets of Laredo,
and eventually of
St. James Infirmary.
The scene may change front the hospital to the barroom, the ‘hero’
may be metamorphosed into a girl, a cowboy, a Negro gambler, but the story,
and the ceremonial funeral, remain constant. It would be hard to find a
ballad which more vividly bridges the centuries, or which has shown itself
more adaptable to social and geographical change, than does
The Unfortunate Rake.

Note that the street ballads/broadsides mentioned usually have the title
The Unfortunate Lad.
Lloyd may have taken the title of his version from the song collected by
Frank Kidson from Kate Thompson of Knaresborough, Yorkshire in September 1892
[VWML FK/2/35,
FK/3/94]
,
or from the tune
The Unfortunate Rake.

Ewan MacColl sang The Young Trooper Cut Down in His Prime
on his albums
Bless 'Em All and other British Army Songs
(Riverside, 1957),
Barrack Room Ballads
(Topic, 1958), and
Bundook Ballads
(Topic, 1965).
He noted:

This ballad is probably the oldest of British barrack-room favourites.
It exists in many variants, and is a standard song among all
‘sweats’. Veterans of World War I claim that the song
originated in the first expeditionary force in France, but, of course, it is
very much older, tracing back to the eighteenth century street ballad,
The Unfortunate Rake.
I recently heard a ninety year old actor, Norman Partridge, sing a version
which he said was current with troops in the Boer War, and which varied hardly
at all from the version included in this album, which was learned from
Harry Cox, traditional singer from Norfolk.

[The reference to Harry Cox seems to be a red herring. Cox's version is
quite different, and MacColl's version is the one he collected from
Harry Sladen in Openshaw in 1946 and which he included in his book
The Singing Island
(London: Mills Music, 1960)].

Harry Cox sang The Young Sailor Cut Down in His Prime
on October 9, 1953 to Peter Kennedy. This BBC recording 21483 was also
included on the Folkways anthology
Field Trip—England
edited by Jean Ritchie.

The north-east Scottish farm labourer Willie Mathieson learned
Noo I'm a Young Man Cut Down in My Prime
in the winter of 1933 from John Innes, farm servant and second horseman
at the farm of Boghead, Dunlugas, Banffshire.
He sang it in 1952 at the age of 72 to Hamish Henderson.

A.L. Lloyd also recorded this song as St James's Hospital
on his 1966 album
First Person;
this track was later included on his Fellside anthology CD
Classic A.L. Lloyd.
He commented in the liner notes:

It's often said that a folk song has no fixed form: passing from mouth to
mouth it's likely to take on various shapes adapted to sundry circumstances.
Few songs illustrate this better than
Saint James's Hospital,
sometimes called
The Unfortunate Rake.
It began life as the lament of a soldier “disordered” by a woman; he
seems to feel that the wounds of Venus, no less than those on the battlefields,
entitle him to a funeral with full military honours. In the sea-ports the song
was altered to concern a sailor, and it spread widely under the title of
The Whores of the City.
Later, the sexes got reversed, and a new version arose as
The Young Girl Cut Down in Her Prime.
In the U.S.A. a cowboy adaption,
The Streets of Laredo,
became one of the best known American folk songs. Incongruously, both the young
girl and the cowboy ask for a military funeral. A late avatar of this
persistent song is the jazz epic,
Saint James' Infirmary,
sometimes called a blues though it's more like a ballad. A memory of the
original scene lingers in the title of Infirmary, and the ceremonial
funeral remains, but in underworld rather than military splendour. In World
War II, a version called
The Dying Marine
became the unofficial anthem of the Royal Marine Commandos. The tune we use
here is the earliest reported, “sung in Cork about 1790”.

I learned this from Peter Hall's singing; he collected it from
Peter Anderson in an Aberdeenshire retirement home. Graphically explicit,
this is the ancestor of
The Streets of Laredo
and
The St James Infirmary Blues.
I think of it as the Napoleonic wars' equivalent of those AIDS public
information messages on television! The chorus displays, in my opinion, a
remarkable naiveté on the part of the young soldier.

The Trooper Cut Down in His Prime (provisionally Roud 2 and 23650) is
a well-travelled song having been found in England, Ireland, Scotland, America, and
beyond, but under different titles and featuring different characters. What in one
case is a sailor, is in another a poor lass, and in another a cowboy on the streets
of Laredo.

The British version centres on a poor victim of syphilis. He/she tells of their
demise, either through promiscuity or a false hearted lover, and how they wish to
be buried. The American version of
St James’ Infirmary
is along the same theme, but puts the song into third person, while the American
cowboy is suffering from a gun shot in the chest. But often a common phrase can be
heard:

Beat the drum slowly and play your fifes lowly,
Sound the dead march as you carry me along.

It can be quite a haunting song, and the British version deals with a not so pleasant subject matter!:

And six young maidens to carry white roses
So they won’t smell me as they pass me by.

The version we sing has a tune similar to others found in the English tradition.
It was collected from Harry Sladen in Openshaw, 1946, by Ewan MacColl, and published
in the book
The Singing Island.
Uniquely, this version features the line
“And fire your bundhooks right over my coffin”,
bundhooks being from the Hindustani word “banduk” meaning a rifle or
musket
[cf. Ewan MacColl's album
Bundook Ballads].

From the American tradition but with its roots in English songs such as
Sailor Cut Down in His Prime. It seems to be a song I've always known,
I was certainly singing it when I was a student, and I can't remember when I
heard and adapted the different verses of chose to sing it from the woman's
point of view. A place few would willingly go.

Lyrics

Willie Mathieson sings Noo I'm a Young Man Cut Down in My Prime

As I was a-walking one bright summer morning,
As I was a-walking one bright summer day,
It's who did I spy but one of my comrades,
Rolled up in white flannel and caulder than clay.

Chorus (repeated after every other verse):
O love, it is cruel, cruel to deceive me,
Why didn't you tell me your sorrows in time?
My head is an-aching, my heart is a-breaking,
Noo, I'm a young man cut down in my prime.

It's I have an aged father, likewise a mother,
Oft times they did tell me it would ruin me quick.
I never did believe them, I always did deceive them,
And still with the city girls I spent all my time.

Go send for my mother to wash and to dress me,
Go send for my sister to comb my black hair;
Go send for my brother to play the pipes slowly,
And play the dead march as they carry me along.

There's a bunch of roses to lay on my coffin,
There's a bunch of roses for my head and my feet;
There's a bunch of roses to lay in the churchyard
To perfume the way as they carry me along.

At the gate of the churchyard to girlies were standing,
The one to the other in a whisper did say:
“Here comes the young man whose money we have squandered,
And noo they have laid him down in his cauld grave.”

Harry Cox sings The Young Sailor Cut Down in His Prime

As I was a-walking down by the Royal Albert,
Black was the night and cold was the day;
Who should I see there but one of my shipmates,
Wrapped in a blanket, far colder than clay.

He asked for a blanket to wrap 'round his head,
Likewise a candle to light him to bed;
His poor heart was breakin', his poor head was achin',
For he's a young sailor cut down in his prime.

We'll beat the big drums and we'll play the pipes merrily,
Play the dead march as we carry him along,
Take him to the churchyard and fire three volleys o'er him
For he's a young sailor cut down in his prime.

At the corner of the street you will see two girls standing,
One to the other did whisper and say:
“Here comes a young sailor whose money we'll squander,
Here comes a young sailor cut down in his prime.”

His kind-hearted mother, his kind-hearted father,
Both of them wondered about his past life;
For along with the flash girls3 he would wander,
Along with the flash girls it was his delight.

A.L. Lloyd sings The Unfortunate Rake

As I was a-walking down by St. James's Hospital,
I was a-walking down by there one day.
What should I spy but one of my comrades,
All wrapped up in flannel, though warm was the day.

I asked him what ailed him, I asked him what failed him,
I asked him the cause of all his complaint.
“It's all on account of some handsome young woman
'Tis she that has caused me to weep and lament.”

“And had she but told me before she disordered me,
Had she but told me of it in time,
I might have got pills and salts of white mercury
But now I'm cut down in the height of my prime.”

“Get six young soldiers to carry my coffin,
Six young girls to sing me a song,
And each of them carry a bunch of green laurel
So they don't smell me as they bear me along.”

“Don't muffle your drums and play your fifes merrily,
Play a quick march as you carry me along.
And fire your bright muskets all over my coffin,
Saying, “There goes an unfortunate lad to his home.”

A.L. Lloyd sings St. James's Hospital

As I was a-walking down by St. James's Hospital,
I was a-walking down by there one day.
What should I spy but one of my comrades,
All wrapped up in flannel, though warm was the day.

I asked him what ailed him, I asked him what failed him,
I asked him the cause of all his complaint.
“Well, it's all on account of some handsome young woman
'Tis she that has caused me to weep and lament.”

“And had she but told me before she disordered me,
Had she but told me of it in time,
I might have got pills or salts of white mercury
But now I'm cut down in the height of my prime.”

“Get six young soldiers to carry me coffin,
Six young girls to sing me a song,
And each of them carry a bunch of green laurel
So they don't smell me as they bear me along.”

Ewan MacColl sings The Young Trooper Cut Down in His Prime

As I was a-walkin' down by the Royal Arsenal,
Early the morning though warm was the day,
When who should I see but one of my comrades,
All wrapped up in flannel, and cold as the clay.

Chorus (repeated after each verse):
Then beat the drum lowly and play your fife slowly,
And sound the dead march as you carry me along;
And fire your bundooks right over my coffin,
For I'm a young trooper cut down in my prime.

The bugles were playin', his mates were a-prayin',
The chaplain was kneelin' down by his bed;
His poor head was achin', his poor heart was breakin',
This poor young trooper cut down in his prime.

Get six of my comrades to carry my coffin,
Six of my comrades to carry me on high;
And six young maidens to carry white roses,
So they won't smell me as they pass me by.

Outside of the barracks you will find two girls standin',
And one to the other she whispered and said:
“Here comes the young swaddy whose money we squandered,
Here comes the young trooper cut down in his prime.”

On the cross by his grave you will find these words written:
“All you young troopers take warnin' by me;
Keep away from them flash girls who walk in the city;
Flash girls of the city have quite ruined me.”

Martin Carthy sings Young Sailor Cut Down in His Prime

So beat the drum o'er him and play the fife merrily,
Sound the dead march as you carry him along.
Take him to the graveyard, fire five volleys o'er him,
For he was a young sailor cut down in his prime.

At the top of yon street you can see two girls standing
One to the other did whisper and say,
“There goes the young sailor whose money we squandered,
Whose like we have tasted and wasted away.”